Happy Birthday to Me
by Agent Sculder
Summary: A lonely woman runs into Dean Winchester on her 30th birthday. Can she connect with him despite her insecurities? Dean/OFC story. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: If you've read my other Supernatural fic "Happy Birthday", this is basically the same story, except told from the female character's perspective rather than Dean Winchester's. No need to have read the previous story though.**

As with all fan-fiction, this is only for fun, not profit. Dean Winchester does not belong to me. No matter how much I wish it were so!

For the what had to be the nineteenth time that day, Kate Hager looked at the clock on the wall near her "office" regretting that she had come to work on her birthday. Usually she took it as a vacation day, but this year it fell the week that they would be closing the books, and since she was the bookkeeper at the small manufacturing company where she earned her modest living, it was important that she be at work. At least that was what she had told herself. The truth was it wasn't like she had anything better to do today.

"That's what you get for having no personal life," she chided herself. "Unless having a schedule of shows to finally watch on Netflix somehow counts as a personal life."

Trying to keep a positive outlook, Kate checked the clock and she did a mini-celebration since it was just after 2 PM (she'd worked through lunch AGAIN). The day would be over soon enough, and then she could be able to go home to her little place and channel her frustration into finishing up her baking for the farmer's market tomorrow. Then she'd curl up on her sofa with a pizza, a bottle of wine, a couple of cookies, and one of her favorite movies and that would be how she would celebrate.

"God I'm pathetic," she murmured out loud, careful to keep her voice low enough that her co-workers hopefully wouldn't notice. The last thing she wanted was for any of them to know that today was her birthday. Although to be fair, she didn't hate everyone in the office. Her bosses were nice enough, and the people who worked in the factory were easy to get along with. If she was honest with herself, the only person she couldn't stand was Nina Worthington, her personal nemesis.

Nina was everything she wasn't: petite, gorgeous, and confident. And dumber than the proverbial box of rocks. But when you looked like her, nobody really gave a damn. Even worse, they had adjacent desks so five days a week, they were guaranteed to see each other nearly all day.

Kate repeated the pep talk she gave herself every day: looks didn't matter. Her lack of a boyfriend or sex life didn't matter. Without her, there wasn't anyone to keep the financial books or run the office. She was much more important than the executive secretary who could barely keep the calendars of the two brothers who owned the business. Everyone knew the only reason why Ted had hired her was because after nine years his dad's former secretary had finally retired, and he wanted someone cute to look at.

Maybe if Nina was at least nice, it wouldn't have been so bad. But Nina was the classic "mean girl". She was hot and knew it. She was just like all the girls who'd ever snickered about Kate behind her back all through high school. Which was why she had left this podunk town in the first place for a college 500 miles away. If she had known the summer job that she was so excited about was going to lead to a permanent job she couldn't seem to escape (thanks sucktacular economy!), she would have never taken it in the first place.

They were almost complete opposites, including how they kept their desks. Nina's was neat and very professional looking; Kate's was a mess; papers everywhere with a couple of half-drunk Diet Coke cans spread in front of her monitor. More than once, people had asked the Morton brothers how they could entrust the finances of their company to a person whose desk looked like that. Steve had always laughed it off and replied that he could care less what her desk looked like as long as she continued to be the best bookkeeper they'd ever had.

The memory brought the ghost of a smile to Kate's lips. It was one of the reasons why she never did look for another job, despite the presence of the dreaded Nina. Steve was a good guy, and good bosses don't grow on trees. It wasn't his fault his brother occasionally made business decisions with his dick instead of his brain.

As she flipped through the latest orders from their customers, Kate allowed herself to day dream a bit about her boss. If there was one guy in this damn town she'd let herself fantasize about it was him. He was a few years older than herself, unmarried with no kids. He kept in good shape, and was quite good looking with his deep blue eyes and dark hair that was just graying at the temples. But like every other guy she'd ever had any lustful thoughts about, he didn't seem to even notice she was female, let alone existed. She'd hoped that losing weight in the last year might have changed things, but no dice. She was still invisible to anyone with a Y chromosome. She was just the good ol' reliable girl who kept the books, never got sick, and barely took any vacation time.

In the end, it was a good thing. He WAS her boss after all. Interoffice relationships were not a good idea. And besides, he was BORING.

Kate's greatest personal shame, which she endeavored to keep very much to herself, was her penchant for bad boys. She might look every inch the super-practical woman with her glasses, conservative suits bought on sale, and ballet flats, but as long as she could remember her biggest crushes had been on the leather jacket wearing, bad reputation having guys her mom had warned her about. Logically, it made no sense: Kate knew that. But a part of her wondered what it would be like to actually be with a guy like that. Even for just one night.

She sighed, knowing it was just a silly fantasy. If she couldn't get regular guys to notice her, what shot did she have with the kind of dark and dangerous looking hot guys that starred in every romance novel she'd ever read?

Fixated on her monitor with her iPod cranked up, she didn't even notice that Steve and Ted had come out of their offices until she felt a heavy tap on her shoulder.

As she turned, Kate quickly realized her personal nightmare was coming to life right in front of her. In her mind's eye everything slowed down and the sound dropped out, despite the cheers of "Happy Birthday!" The entire office was standing behind her desk and she could feel her face reddening with embarrassment. Steve was pressing a card into her hands, and whispered into her ear there was a small token of appreciation from him and Ted inside. With shaking hands, she opened it. It was a gift card to Target.

To add to her horror, Nina was lurking closely behind the brothers, bearing a cake. Soon it came into view; it was of the cheap supermarket variety that she hated, and to make it extra horrible it was emblazoned with "Happy 30th Birthday, Kate!" Kate could tell just by looking at it the frosting would be too sweet and the cake would probably be not very good as well.

Forcing a smile, especially since everyone would be expecting her to be ecstatic that someone had remembered her birthday, she decided to play along.

"Oh guys, you really shouldn't have! This is just too much!" Which in the circumstances, wasn't exactly a lie either. She just hoped she sounded convincing, lying was not something she particularly excelled at.

"We wouldn't have done anything, but Nina came to me last week and mentioned that today was your birthday, and since it's the big 3-0, I figured we had to do something to celebrate," Steve said earnestly, clearly under the impression that she wasn't upset.

"I was just looking at personnel records, and I happened to notice your birthday was coming up. Kate, you really should have said something about it," continued Nina, in her best "aren't I sweet" voice, "I would have never guessed you were that much older than me."

What a bitch. And what the hell was she doing looking through personnel files?

"Thanks. I guess I'm just well preserved," was her bone dry reply, which elicited a few laughs from her co-workers.

Her sensitivity had nothing to do with her actual age. Thirty was young. But when you get to that age without so much as one boyfriend to your credit, being reminded that another year has passed without one stings more than a little bit.

Nina stood there looking impossibly smug. She was obviously not buying Kate's performance. "So how are you going to celebrate this weekend?" she asked, guessing that she had nothing interesting planned.

Unable to respond with a succinct "Fuck you" given the fact her bosses were standing right next to her, Kate explained, "Since tomorrow is the farmers market, I'll be having a quiet night in finishing my baking, and then tomorrow I'll be working selling everything. No plans for Sunday though."

Before Nina could make another nasty remark, Steve cut her off by suggesting that she cut the cake so that everyone could have some. Kate gave her boss a quick smile of thanks, and noticed him mouth, "I'm sorry about her." She grinned even wider, and started cutting the cake into neat squares. Maybe her birthday wasn't going to be so bad after all.

Hours later, Kate looked around her kitchen, a look of triumph on her face, her hands on her hips, taking a mental inventory of everything she had made for the farmers' market. Happily, everything was all done, and now she could relax. Still, she felt a bit silly at being so proud of her modest accomplishment. It was just a few batches of chocolate chip cookies. It wasn't like she had cured cancer or anything.

She shook it off, remembering the joy on her customers faces when they were able to snag one or more of the treat bags that had become famous around town. Bringing a little bit of happiness to people was the real reason she did it. She barely charged enough to cover the cost of the ingredients. It was terribly sappy of her, but she had to take her emotional fulfillment where she could.

Now, it was time to settle in with a pizza and one of her favorite movies, _Jane Eyre_. Although technically speaking it was a mini-series; the fact was she never failed to watch both episodes together. She popped in the first DVD and settled in for four glorious hours of gothic romance.

But halfway through her mushroom pizza, something changed. Maybe it was watching all those heated glances between Jane and Mr. Rochester. The scene where he puts his dressing gown on her and whispers that she'll never be cold again, never failed to get her all swoony. Great! Here she was, thirty years old, all alone and horny. That wouldn't be so bad if she could do something about it.

Or could she?

It wasn't THAT late. There was no reason she couldn't go to Lucky's for a celebratory birthday drink. The place may have been a dive, but at least it was a dive with a good bartender. Henry would probably be behind the bar, and he knew just how she liked her martinis. Made with Bombay Sapphire gin, the barest hint of vermouth, icy cold, and with LOTS of olives. Before she could lose her nerve, she put her work clothes back on and touched up her make-up, grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

When she arrived it was a typical Friday night at the bar. A few guys playing pool drinking long necks, some couples having post-dinner drinks before heading home, and singles at the bar. The ones looking to hook up were tightly grouped on one side of the bar, laughing as they sipped their cocktails. On the other hand, on the opposite side of the bar a few people sat, eyes focused on their drinks. No laughing, no conversation.

Her immediate inclination was to join the quiet side of the bar so she could have her drink in peace, but as her gaze wandered over to the side she thought better of it. All her life she'd taken the safe, easy route, and where had it left her? Stuck in the town she grew up in and alone because everyone had made their minds up about her years ago. But tonight she he chance to try to turn the table on them a bit, show them she was just as capable of having a good time as any of them.

She subtly straightened her shoulders, a little shake to focus her attention, and walked directly over to the "fun" side of the bar, and placed her drink order. Kate was at a bit of a loss as to what she should do, wanting someone to notice her, but at the same time unwilling to make a spectacle of herself. Once her drink arrived she took a couple of sips, savoring the cool burn as it slipped easily down her throat.

"Hey Nina, isn't that Kate from your office?" "What's she doing here," came multiple voices from behind her. It seemed that she'd been spotted. Before she could answer, Nina retorted for her, "Out for a birthday drink."

Her mouth must have dropped open to answer, because Kate could feel herself snapping her mouth shut, unwilling to engage Nina on her home turf while she was surrounded by her friends. Kate knew she wouldn't find any sympathy among them. If they had any thoughts of her at all, they had been shaped by Nina.

She just sat there staring at the little group as Nina continued, "It looks like turning 30 made her a little restless. Maybe she even thought that after a couple drinks one of the guys here would take pity on her and get her laid!" Still clutching her drink, Nina brought her hands up to her eyes, twisting her pretty features into a drunken mask that even Kate knew was a reference to "beer goggles".

Not everyone had laughed at her, and she thought she overheard one person even tell Nina that her remark had been "uncool". However being unwilling to sit there and be the butt of Nina's cruelty, she turned away and picked her drink and purse up and moved over to the other side of the bar. It was where she belonged anyway.

She deliberately pulled up a bar stool next to one of the pillars, hiding herself from view. And there she made herself comfortable, finishing her drink in silence. She supposed she should have left at that point, but figured that since it was her birthday, a couple more wouldn't hurt. And least this way, she wasn't technically drinking alone.

Lucky's started to empty out, leaving pretty much the guys playing pool, Nina, a couple of her crew , and Kate herself. It was how the place looked most Friday nights. Which was why nearly everyone looked up when the door swung open to admit a new patron sometime shortly after 11:30 PM. Like everyone else, Kate peered toward the door to see who it was.

The figure cast a long shadow as it moved into the dim light. When it fully emerged, the sight nearly took her breath away. Walking slowly towards her side of the bar was probably the most gorgeous man she'd ever personally laid eyes on, the very incarnation of every bad boy fantasy she'd ever had. Right down to the leather jacket and "don't fuck with me" attitude that he exuded by just breathing.

Kate quickly turned back toward the bar, hoping he didn't notice her staring. She closed her eyes, cementing the picture of him in her mind. Wanting to commit him to memory. Short brown hair, dark eyes, golden skin, and oh-so full lips that silently spoke of the sinful things that mouth had undoubtedly done to many, many women. Damn him, he was almost _pretty_! Somewhere a romance novel was missing its cover boy. Or maybe even a cloud was missing its angel, she mused as she took another sip of martini # 3 of the evening.

Of course, he was checking out Nina and her buddies. And of course, Nina was signaling her interest in Mr. Tall & Gorgeous right back. He hadn't even seen her in her hiding spot. Not that it mattered.

God, the way he filled out those jeans should be illegal! It probably was somewhere, she thought as he slid onto a seat down the bar from her.

She decided the best thing to do was to concentrate on her drink and do her best to ignore the hottie. It was the safe play, and considering how she'd been burned earlier in the night, Kate wasn't about to take any more chances. She heard him order his drink. No doubt he'd be sipping it slowly, ogling the women across the bar, figuring out which one he wanted.

Maybe it was the three martinis; or maybe it was just pure frustration that she was about to watch this guy pick up another woman and give her the night of her life on HER birthday that she couldn't help bursting out, "Nina's the one you want. The brunette." Kate gestured toward Nina twirling the toothpick that had held the olives, as she knocked back the last of her drink.

At least now he'd know she existed. She might not have a chance in hell that he'd be interested, being more than well acquainted with her physical limitations, particularly as compared to the younger women across the bar. But she'd be damned to just SIT here and watch.

"Are you talking to me," the voice from the man inquired, sounding like a bad DeNiro impression. But good Lord, that voice was enough to get a woman to kick her panties off in a hurry.

Kate responded without thinking, throwing caution to the wind. She'd gotten herself into this, and she was going to get herself out of it. But she was going to need another drink before she could face him.

Rolling her eyes, she said something about the "other hot guy in the bar" and then asked Henry for another martini, pushing her glass toward the bartender. It was only then she turned to the left to look directly at him.

To her surprise, he was looking directly at her, his eyes swooping over her face, doubtlessly noticing her boring mousy hair and glasses. He said something about vodka martinis that she took immediate umbrage to, but she couldn't help smiling at his mistake. It was a common one. She took a sip of her fourth drink, realizing this had better be her last one if she was going to drive herself home.

He had finished his double of Jack Daniels with a smile, and was ordering another one when feeling emboldened by the alcohol she suggested Nina's friend Sharon as a possible conquest, thinking that perhaps he preferred red-heads. Although if she had to guess, he appeared to be an equal opportunity kind of guy. And hell, if all the other women in the bar could give him the "fuck-me" eyes, she could too.

Giving up some of her much prized control, Kate let herself openly ogle him while he watched. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to take it well, obviously lying that he was only in the bar to get drunk after a shitty day. And it that was the truth, the tooth fairy was real!

She must have said it aloud, because next thing she knew he shot back that he could tell her stories that would set her hair on fire about the stuff that went bump in the night, and she was telling him there was only reason a guy who looked like him came into a bar like this at this time of the night.

"You hitting on me, sweetheart?" he chuckled.

At his words, Kate felt her cheeks get warm, and afraid he was mocking her she turned away willing herself to cry. Not here and not now. Feeling humiliated, she did the only thing she could without looking ridiculous, she ordered a fifth martini.

It would appear that her gift to herself this year would be getting stinking drunk at Lucky's. Awesome. Hopefully, she'd get drunk enough that she'd forget the night even happened. Even if that meant forgetting the beautiful man just down the bar. Some memories were too painful to keep.

Henry tried to discourage her, and she informed him it was her birthday and if she wanted to get drunk she would. She made sure she said the words loud and clear so he and the hot guy would get the message. The downside was that whole bar heard her as well, including Nina who seemed to be concerned that her slightly tipsy belligerence would scare the guy off.

Damn right, she hoped it did, allowing herself to be profoundly selfish for a moment. If you can't be selfish on your birthday, then when can you?

The room started to turn, and for a moment Kate thought the liquor had hit her all at once, but instead found herself eye to eye with HIM. Her drink suddenly disappeared from her hand, and just as her brain registered his eyes were actually not brown but hazel, his lips connected with hers and for the second time that day the world fell away.

His kiss was soft at first, but then he slid his tongue into her mouth, and she couldn't help kissing him back with everything she had, grasping onto his shirt to try to keep from pulling away too quickly. Unbidden, she felt hot tears slide down her cheeks, unable to hide how deeply she wanted and needed him.

"Why don't you let me take you home?"

The words took a moment to register, slightly stunning her. But there could only be one answer to his question, despite what her very logical mind told her.

"Yes."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks so much for your patience! I hope you enjoy this next chapter. **

* * *

The next thing she knew her purse was back in her hands, the guy was paying off their bar tabs, and she was slowly sliding off her stool with every pair of eyes in the place staring at them. She wobbled a bit when her feet hit the ground. Not from the alcohol, but from being unused to being on solid ground after spending the last hour or so with her feet wrapped around the legs of the chair. He didn't say a word, but he kept his hot gaze fixed on her, almost daring anyone to make a smart ass remark.

No one did.

Henry gave her a barely perceptible wink as she walked to join her "date", and she could feel his eyes on her as she made what felt like a VERY long walk to the door. She appreciated he hadn't taken her arm, like she belonged to him, or worse, like she couldn't get from point A to point B without him.

Kate shivered a moment once she stepped outside, the night having grown markedly cooler since she'd left her place. She was only wearing a blazer, and it really wasn't enough to keep her warm. Thankfully the parking lot at Lucky's wasn't exactly large so she'd be back in her car in a moment. Automatically she walked toward her small red vehicle, hoping he didn't find it terminally uncool. Yes, it was super practical, but it wasn't like she needed a big car.

But before she could fish her keys out of her purse, she felt a slight tug at her elbow, pulling her toward a big black monster of a car that just HAD to be his. She didn't know much about cars, but she was pretty sure it was a vintage Chevy Impala, and in nearly mint condition too. It suited him perfectly, even if it wasn't the first vehicle choice that came to mind. It was one bad ass looking car, and he was actually opening the passenger side door for her to get in it.

She still couldn't believe this was happening. She, Kate Hager, 30 year old virgin, was getting into a strange man's car after kissing him senseless in the town's most well-known dive. Almost no part of that sentence after the word "virgin" would have made sense an hour earlier. But here she was, getting in his car all the same.

For a second panic washed over her. What if he was a murderer? He certainly had that innate dangerous look, but recalling the gentleness of his lips when they had touched hers, she felt like she had to take this chance. When was a guy like this going to come around again?

"Your car is beautiful," she said, trying to make conversation, knowing her voice was shaking from the nerves. He gave her a heart stopping grin as he boasted of her restoring "her" himself, and without thinking she remarked that he had to be good with his hands.

"I am, sweet pea. And you're gonna find out how good as soon as you tell me how to get your place." Kate could feel her cheeks turn scarlet, and her heart was already hammering in her chest. She relaxed a bit at the mention of her place. She'd been idly wondering where they were going to go, and had been praying it was not the no-tell motel just down the county road.

Did that make her a snob?

She probably didn't look like a girl who would be comfortable in a place like that, and that was probably why he was suggesting her place. Yes, that had to be it.

Kate's reverie was interrupted by the sound of the big engine turning over, startling her with just how loud it was. The car practically purred as he wrapped his hands around the steering wheel as though it appreciated having him back behind the wheel. Man, if he could make a CAR sound like that, what was she going to going to sound like when he touched her?

He softly asked for directions to her house and she guided the car there ably. As they drove, she couldn't help flipping through the cassette tapes that sat just below the tape player. Led Zeppelin IV, Metallica, Kansas, and Journey? That was some serious hair metal right there. But at least it was GOOD hair metal she thought to herself.

Kate took a moment to look at him as his attention was focused elsewhere. Yep, his face was still just as gorgeous in profile as it was from straight on. He must have had a sixth sense that she was watching him because he jerked his head to the right slightly as though to confirm it was just her sitting beside him, and not someone or something else.

"It's just up there on the left," she said, more than a bit anxiously, pointing to a modest Cape Cod style house. Although she had plenty of room in her driveway (after all, her car was back at the bar), he swung his car around and parked in front on her home on the street.

They walked to the door in somewhat uncomfortable silence, both of them lost in thought. For her part, Kate's mind was racing, desperate to say the right thing once they got inside. She was at a complete loss. Not only had she never had a one night stand before, she'd never even brought a man home. And to make it extra awkward, if things went as planned, this was going to be her first time having sex. Period.

But as the deadbolt slid open with a loud click, one very crystal clear thought ran through her mind: if a girl had to wait 30 years to have sex, this guy more than made up for it! If kisses were anything to judge by, at any rate.

She squeezed her eyes tight for a second, and opened the door wide, letting him enter her home first. He was a guest, after all. The leather of his jacket brushed up against her navy blue polyester covered one as strode into her entry way, like he'd been here a hundred times before. Kate had no illusions that he'd probably been in this position more than once. And in a way, she was grateful. At least one of them knew what the hell they were doing!

As she closed the door tightly and relocked it, she could hear him take a deep breath. Was he nervous? When he turned back around to face her, he seemed oddly pensive, lost in thought. Maybe he was having second thoughts.

"Thanks for the ride home. You don't have to do this, you know. I have a guest bedroom." She couldn't look him in the eyes as she said it, fearing her disappointment would be all too evident.

He took her chin in one hand, and forced her to look at him. "If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be here." His mouth captured hers in a rough kiss, extinguishing her fears. Since they were nearly the same height, it was easy to sink into his strong embrace, their lips and tongues devouring each other. His hands came to her waist, backing her up against the door as their mutual assault continued. He stripped her hands of the minor burdens of her keys and purse, laying them carefully on the table by the door.

Acting on instinct alone, Kate brought her arms up around his neck, pulling him in closer, letting him know she badly wanted him. She could feel the heat of his growing erection through his jeans as he ground against her, rubbing just north of where she wanted him most. Just the thought she was exciting him made her gasp and groan, and she could feel her panties growing damper with every second.

Somehow they managed to get even closer as his mouth wandered away from hers, burying itself against her neck. Kate got lost in the sensations buffeting her from every angle. The pleasure was unlike anything she'd ever experienced, and she was greedy for more.

But when she felt his hands on her jacket, trying to unbutton it, Kate suddenly realized that this was not a fantasy. It was real life, and it instantly sobered her. She stopped him before he could finish, even though she wanted him more than ever. She heard herself saying that she couldn't do this, she didn't know his name, and that somehow the hot had completely overcome her better judgment. All the while her brain was screaming at her to keep her mouth shut so she could finally get the kind of fucking she'd only ever read about.

He pulled away and smiled at her. It was the kind of grin that had to have charmed countless females, including his mother. He was all man, but that grin showed he had not quite lost the sweet little boy he must have been.

"I'm Dean."

She supposed it could be an alias, but the ease with which the name had easily crossed his lips belied that.

"Why don't we take this back to your room? Although I could oblige you here, if you like."

A picture of the two of them going at it against her door flashed through her mind; she had to rest her head against the door to regain her equilibrium. He was just too damn perfect for words. Too perfect for the less than perfect her. Kate couldn't even look at him.

"God, this MUST be a dream! He's too hot to be here with me. This can't be happening to me," she sighed.

Dean leaned back in, his hands undoing her blazer as his eyes captured hers. "You need to stop thinking so much," he drawled. His hands slid up her blouse to cup her breasts, lightly stroking the sides. His breath came hotly in her ear, "Just think about how good this is making you feel." The sound of his voice making her nipples peak and thoughts of not going through with this disappear.

She took his hands in hers, leading him up the flight of stairs to the second floor. As she opened the door to her bedroom, she hoped he didn't mind that she hadn't made her bed. Neatness had never really been her thing; and it wasn't like she had ever expected this to happen. As they entered into the bedroom space, Kate deliberately avoided flipping the light switch so he wouldn't be able to see much of their surroundings.

Poised quite literally on the threshold of an experience she wanted more than anything, doubts still nagged her. She turned toward him and shivered as his hands immediately settled onto her waist, silently urging her to undress.

"Dean, I have to ask," she began, but he quickly cut her off.

"Yes, I have protection," he replied very matter-of-factly. Of course he did. She never imagined he didn't, which was probably a stupid assumption on her part. But it was a good thing he did because otherwise she'd be at the drugstore in the morning looking for Plan B. And wouldn't that cause tongues to wag!

But that wasn't her question. As much as she wanted this, she did have a modicum of self-respect left. "This isn't a pity fuck, is it? If you're not really into me, it's OK. I understand."

If he didn't truly want this with her, she wanted to give him a graceful exit. They hadn't made any commitments. She had to know it was HER he wanted, not just any woman.

It was hard to meet his gaze, but she had to look at him to gauge if he was telling the truth. Dean didn't say much; instead he removed his hands from her body, and took her right hand and placed it just below his belt buckle.

Kate's first thought was to quickly withdraw her hand. This was _naughty_. But the moment she felt his erection straining toward her palm, she found herself lightly stroking the fly of his jeans in response.

"Does that feel like pity to you?" he answered rhetorically, and she shook her head in the negative by way of response.

Still a bit worried about him seeing the somewhat untidy state of her room, not to mention her naked body (there was no doubt in her mind that Dean was planning more than quick what-bam-thank you-ma'am) Kate suggested they leave the lights off. He rejected it the moment the words passed her lips. He wanted to see her, all of her. He wanted to see her when she came. Kate found herself powerless to protest against his hungry words as the warm incandescent glow of electricity filled her room.

They reached for each other, hands and mouths eager. She divested him of his jacket and button down shirt as he deftly backed her up toward the bed. She nearly groaned at the sight of his mostly bare arms. If she had thought he filled out his jeans well, the vision of him in a t-shirt was even better. No wonder he dressed in layers!

Once on the bed, Kate became nothing more than a bundle of sensation, as Dean stripped her clothes off, leaving her only in her bra and soaked cotton panties. His mouth and hands seemed to be everywhere all at once, and it felt so damn good she didn't have time to be embarrassed by her tummy and fading stretch marks.

She moaned when his finger slid inside her, and then when he started stroking her clit as well, she knew she was going to come, and come hard. He was urging her on, and Kate threw her head back, letting the orgasm wash over her. It may have not been her first orgasm, but experiencing it with another human being was a completely different animal.

"Are you OK?" he asked, his voice sounding concerned.

Kate then realized why he'd been concerned, as the high from the orgasm subsided, she felt that tears had leaked out of the corners of her eyes. "More than OK," she responded, surprised at the sound of her voice. Her voice was lower, and breathless. It was almost sexy.

She watched the concern melt from his eyes, transforming back into arousal. "Good, 'cause I'm not nearly done with you yet," his voice a delicious promise of more pleasure. Kate expected that now he'd start undressing, but instead he was inching down her long frame, his mouth showering her body in kisses as he moved south. It didn't take a genius to figure out where he was headed.

"Dean, you don't have to do this!" she protested. And he really didn't. After what he'd just done Kate wanted to give him as much pleasure as she possibly could. She was barely able to whisper, "It's your turn," as he pulled off her underwear, pushed her legs up and started licking her most intimate flesh like he had no choice in the matter.

His mouth, that glorious mouth of his was sucking her clit, and the very idea of this beautiful man taking such pleasure in her pleasure made her even more aroused than she had been. She could feel herself practically gushing in response to him, and her hips had acquired a life of their own, lifting up to urge him on. A part of her wanted to grab onto his hair, to keep him there, but Dean didn't need any encouragement. He made her come twice more with just his mouth, one right after the other.

Her nerves still buzzing and fizzling like champagne she brought her legs down, regaining a small bit of modesty. It was only then that he pulled away from her, sitting right on the edge of her bed. They held each other's gazes for a moment, and then he pulled his black t-shirt off. Kate held her breath as his torso was revealed to her for the first time.

She gasped when she saw the damage to his otherwise perfect body. He had a reddish-pink HANDPRINT on one shoulder! How in the Lord's name did that happen? Whatever had caused it, it had to have been painful. Seeing it, her heart filled with empathy for this strange man in her bed. A man who had clearly experienced what had to have been agony; but despite, or perhaps because of it was capable of giving so much pleasure. It seemed that he had his own difficult secrets in the not-too distant past. They weren't any of her business.

Some women might be disgusted by the mark, but she yearned to soothe him; dropping her mouth to his afflicted shoulder, wishing her kisses could magically erase the mark. Keenly aware that she was touching his bare body for the first time, she kept her touches light, almost tentative. Afraid that if she made the wrong move he might disappear, and this would all turn out to be a dream.

Her fingers lingered over the intricate tattoo on his chest, and Kate couldn't help remarking upon his beauty out loud. He nearly blushed, his eyes crinkling with amusement, revealing the beginnings of crows' feet around his eyes. He cracked a remark about his unusual scar, as though it somehow made him less desirable.

And then she realized, maybe he didn't really know how glorious he really was. Sure, he knew he was hot, but maybe he didn't know he had the kind of soul quaking beauty that up until that moment, Kate had thought was a myth. Then to make it even more complicated, he was with her.

"You don't even know, do you?" she honestly asked as she stroked his high, perfect cheekbones. His answer came in the way of a searing, possessive kiss that she echoed with her own as he removed her bra and laid her back down. His warm golden skin collided with her cool pale one, the contrast almost as startling as the feeling of her soft breasts against his hard chest.

Now that she was completely naked, he zeroed in on them, suckling and nibbling her nipples, each in turn. Kate had never thought much of her boobs, privately dismayed that they drooped a bit and were a bit larger than she preferred. Dean certainly had no complaints about them. But then again, he didn't have to carry them around all day.

He was certainly making her rethink her conservative dress the way he lavished so much attention on them. Maybe all those minimizing bras and three button blazers had done as much to keep men at bay as her height and glasses.

Kate felt him lift off her once again, and for a moment she mourned the loss of his solid weight on top of hers, but then she quickly realized what he was doing. Curious to watch him undress, she sat up with him, and watched him unlace his boots so that he could remove them. His white socks followed close behind. With practiced ease, he undid his brown leather belt without looking at it. His eyes stayed steady with hers.

Dean might not say it, but she could somehow tell he was trying to make sure she was still OK with this. To reassure him, she took his belt off for him and tossed it onto the growing pile of clothes next to the bed. His jeans soon added to the pile, and with them gone, Kate could feel his large, rather insistent erection right at her hip.

Suddenly eager to see all of him, but not bold enough to remove the last of his clothing herself, she began stroking in and around the elastic waistband. He ground loudly, grinding his pelvis against hers, causing her to drop her legs open to give him more room. His hands quickly captured hers, and together they removed his boxer briefs.

Oh good Lord, they were naked.

Kate looked down, and there it was. It wasn't like she hadn't seen one before. She might be a virgin (just barely now) but she did have an internet connection and she did have needs. But seeing one in person was just a BIT daunting. She was no one to judge, but he looked pretty big to her. And despite the very insistent ache between her legs, the idea of taking it inside her was slightly scary.

She supposed now would be the time to let him know that she'd never done this before, but there was the possibility it would turn him off completely. And seriously, that was the last thing she wanted. Better to keep her mouth shut. Maybe he wouldn't even notice.

Although she was a bit unsure of what to do, she took his cock in her hands, stroking it from root to tip. It was hot and hard, thick and yet the skin was soft. Touching it made her feel powerful in a way she never had been before. They barely knew each other and yet he trusted her to touch him when he was in an incredibly vulnerable position. And Dean didn't seem like a guy who made himself vulnerable all that often.

Soon he was groping for her bedside table, and Kate figured that must be where his wallet was. He brushed the foil packet against her arm, and asked if she wanted to put the condom on for him. She shook her head in the negative. She was definitely not ready for that just yet. But she watched intently as drew the latex down, pinching the tip to leave room.

That bit of awkwardness taken care of, they lay back down, and before she could prepare herself for his entry, he was sliding in hard. Kate felt a quick burst of pain, and cringed, hoping he wouldn't notice.

He noticed.

"You should have told me," was all he said. He stilled his body, and Kate could tell it was an effort on his part to do so.

"I was too embarrassed," she replied. The pain was quickly subsiding, and was instead replaced with a feeling of more than pleasant fullness. "Besides you wouldn't have believed me."

He didn't say anything, but his sweet, almost gentle kiss conveyed much more than words could have. But Kate didn't want gentleness now. She wanted him to _fuck_ her.

She slid her tongue into his mouth, signaling she wanted more, and he responded with gentle thrusts. Soon the pressure started to build again, and she started to break out in a sweat. He reassured her, telling her to do whatever came naturally and not to be afraid to tell him if he was hurting her.

Hurting her was the last thing he was doing. If anything she wanted MORE, but she wasn't sure if he would appreciate the critique. She let her body speak for her, letting her hips start to meet his thrusts. He gradually sped up, and after one stroke nearly made her eyes roll back into her head she finally gave voice to her pleasure.

"Oh fuck, that feels good."

"You want it harder, baby? You gotta tell me," he answered, sounding relieved. He slammed in hard, taking her deep, biting down lightly on her earlobe, and the slight pain made her clench down hard on him. "Say it."

"Please. More," she begged him. He better not stop. It was so fucking good, and she could feel another orgasm just on the horizon.

He started to murmur hot sex words, telling her how good her pussy was, and the words nearly got her off as much as his actions did. Sweat had gathered on his arms and shoulder blades, making it harder for her to hold onto his shoulders as his body rode hers.

Then just before she was about to come, Dean ordered her to open her eyes so he could see them, and she snapped them open, wanting to please him. She felt one of his hands come between then, and when he stroked her clit again, she went off like a rocket, and it was only his command that kept her from closing her eyes.

Overcome with sensation, she moaned for him to keep fucking her all the while it felt like she was experiencing her very own personal supernova. But as she said it, it occurred to Kate that Dean still hadn't come yet. And here she was selfishly demanding more.

Resolved to give as good as she had taken, she obediently grabbed the dark metallic swirls of her headboard when he placed her hands there. He dropped his chin back down to her chest, and began sucking at her nipples again, his thrusts now coming shorter and faster, as he lost himself to his pleasure. She wrapped her legs around his hips, urging him deeper, and his face twisted into a beautiful grimace, trying to hold back. But a moment later, he thrust one final time, closing his eyes as he finally gave himself up to his orgasm.

Dean was careful not to collapse on top of her, instead pulling away just far enough so he could get rid of the condom, and then reposition himself behind her. Since they were of a height, their bodies fit together easily. He gently stroked her hair, and she reflexively dropped her head against his shoulder, loving the unexpected show of tenderness.

They lay there not speaking, just enjoying the silence and the sound of each other's breathing for a while. For her part, her mind was racing, amazed at what had just happened. Any expectations she had had been shattered. In fact, she was pretty sure Dean had just spoiled her for life, and she didn't even know his last name.

She was lost in thought when she heard him ask, "Why'd you wait so long?"

She should have known this was coming. It certainly was a logical question, and he deserved an answer, but she didn't want to lay too much of her personal psychological crap on him. That seemed bad form. She twisted around in his embrace so she faced him as she told him the truth.

"I used to be fat." She couldn't help continuing, "Well, fatter than I am now." She forced herself to look into his eyes, silently praying she hadn't ruined everything.

"Long story, I bet," he said, his voice blessedly judgment-free.

"You could say that," she replied, and wanting to thank him for his sympathetic response, she kissed his mouth softly. When he deepened this kiss and rolled her back under him, she got the message loud and clear: he wasn't quite done with her yet.

This was the best damn birthday ever.

* * *

**And I'm not QUITE done yet! Hopefully I will have the next part up real soon. If you enjoyed this, I hope you take a second to review. I really appreciate your encouraging words.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's my final regular chapter of this story. I have an idea for a something of an epilogue, but I'm not sure about it just yet. Let me know what YOU think!**

The second time around was different. Not better or worse, but different. Kate was certainly more relaxed this time around, and Dean had been downright playful up until the moment he took her from behind. Kate could feel her cheeks getting warm just thinking about it. They were lying in her bed together, wide awake in the afterglow.

Logically, they should both be exhausted. And Kate _was_ feeling tired, but it seemed to be more due to using muscles she really hadn't used before than any need to sleep. If she had any sense, she'd get up now and take an Aleve because she was sure to be achy in the morning. But that would mean getting out of the bed, and that would mean Dean would see her naked.

Despite all they had done, she wasn't entirely comfortable with her body. A couple of hours of intense sex were not enough to erase a lifetime of shame about her body. "Oh well," she mumbled to herself, if she was going to be chicken, she'd just have to deal with it later.

What she could really use was a nice hot shower to loosen her up. Just the thought of the hot water pulsing over her flesh, releasing the tension locked there made her sigh softly. Hot showers were one of her very favorite things. Whoever was responsible for inventing the hot water heater was nigh a god in her eyes.

Lost in thought, she hadn't noticed that Dean was moving around on his side of her bed.

"I could really use a shower," Dean drawled, stretching his big body a bit. She couldn't help staring at him as he arched his back, and twisted from side to side. It was almost like watching sculpture in motion. It looked like he was feeling the effects of the last couple of hours as well.

Wanting to be a good hostess, she carefully sat up in bed so she could keep herself covered as she gestured toward her door, and replied, "Make yourself at home. My bathroom is just down the hall."

"Awesome," he said enthusiastically, sliding out of her bed completely unselfconscious about the fact he was now standing stark naked in front of her. Lord have mercy!

Strangely, he was holding a hand out to her. Kate looked at him with a quizzical expression, starting to wonder what the hell he could be thinking.

"Come on, baby. You didn't think I wanted to shower alone, did you?"

"Um, yes?" she answered honestly, still clutching the cream colored sheet to her chest.

"God, you're adorable when you blush like that." He crawled back into her bed, and took her right hand, trying to tug her out from under the sheet.

"Dean, please, I'd rather stay here."

He grew serious for a moment, and he tucked her wild curls behind her ears. "Kate, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. There's nothing wrong with your body."

"That's easy for you to say. Aside from your shoulder, you're perfect," she replied softly.

"Baby, I am so far from perfect it's not even funny," he said with more than touch of humor in this voice. "You're just too hard on yourself. I think when you look in the mirror you see the body you had, not the one you have now."

It was an oddly philosophical statement coming from a man who didn't appear to dwell on much except the present. But she couldn't deny that he did have a point. It was hard to see herself as desirable when she had such vivid memories of not being able to buy clothes in the same stores as other women or having people tell her she had a "nice personality" as a compliment.

When Dean held his hand out the next time, she took it; but she stayed under the covers as long as she could. Eventually, she just ran out of real estate, and Kate shuddered as the last of the cool cotton sheet slipped off her body as she came to her feet. Dean gave her an unmistakably lusty leer, which made her feel a whole lot better about the prospect of sharing her shower stall with him.

"What?" she asked as his eyes continued to rake her body.

"Sweet pea, I'd be a fool not to stare. You look way better out of your clothes than in them," he teased gently.

"What's wrong with my clothes? You don't exactly dress like a model in _GQ_!" She held off mentioning he probably could pass for one in the right outfit. No one would ever mistake her for a model.

"I don't claim to know much about clothes, but I am a guy, and you dress about 15 years too old. You've got great tits and legs about ten miles long. Show 'em off."

Kate could not believe she was standing here getting fashion advice from a guy who appeared to have bought all of his clothes from a combination of the Goodwill and the Tractor Supply Store. To say nothing of the fact they were having this conversation in the nude, standing around her bedroom.

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say, Dean. Allow me to give you the 10 cent tour of my second floor."

Although the idea of him staring at her backside was intimidating, it was better than him walking in front of her. She was fairly sure she'd trip over her own feet if she had to follow that perfectly shaped ass of his for any measureable distance.

As they made the short walk, she grabbed a couple of towels from her linen closet, and then mentioned that the bathroom was just next door, and the door a bit farther down the hall was her guest bedroom. Other than that, there wasn't anything else on the second floor. It was a small house but it was more than enough for her.

Once she pointed out where the bathroom was, Dean sauntered right by her, and she got an eyeful of what until then she had only speculated about. And yes, it was pretty darn spectacular. Just as she pushed back the bridge of her glasses to adjust them a bit, he paused and looked at her over his shoulder.

"You comin', or are you just going to stare at my ass all night?"

She gave him her best exasperated expression (one she generally reserved for when Nina asked for something particularly stupid at the office), and marched right by him, willing herself not look at him as she did so. Once inside the bathroom, she set the towels on a rack she kept within an arm's reach of bathtub so they would easily be able to grab them. She also set her glasses next to them so she'd be able to find them without too much trouble.

Kate heard the sound of his bare feet on the tile floor, his footsteps light.

"So you gonna tell me how to fire this up, or am I going to have to figure it out for myself?" he breathed huskily into her ear, jolting her into action.

She did her best to pretend he wasn't there, and quickly twisted the knobs to get the hot water going.

"I hope you don't mind it on the hot side," Kate said over her shoulder as she tested the water.

"Sweetheart, I have taken one too many cold showers to EVER complain a hot one."

OK, there had to be story behind that, but Kate wasn't about to pry. "Then, I guess we're all set," she said as much to Dean as herself. She opened the vanilla colored shower curtain, and quickly ducked inside to the waiting warmth. The moment the streaming water came in contact with her taxed muscles she let out a contented sigh, ducked her head up toward the shower head, and ran her hands through her hair getting it all wet.

Suddenly, a pair of very male hands swept up her body, cupping her breasts from behind as Dean pulled her into his body. And from the state of the erection she could feel against her rear, he was raring to go again.

"Dean, we can't," she murmured against his neck, all the while her body said the exact opposite as she leaned into him. Unless a condom magically appeared in the shower in the next five seconds, sex was a definite no-go.

"I know, baby, I know," he whispered into her ear. "But I can't help myself. You're makin' me crazy. If I wasn't a more responsible guy, I'd push you up against wall and fuck you good and hard until we both come screaming."

At his words, Kate felt herself getting incredibly aroused. She would like nothing better for him to fuck her brains out in the shower, but given the fact she wasn't on birth control she couldn't really risk it.

Even though she knew better, she turned into his chest, wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her wet front into him. Their mouths met, and he quickly maneuvered them both under the nozzle so that as they groped each other the water cascaded over them.

The water made his skin incredibly slick, and her hands slid all over him, learning the exquisite planes and curves of his body. Kate found herself holding onto his ass, and he urged her to raise one of her legs and rest it on the ledge of the tub.

"Need to touch you inside again, baby. "

She instantly complied, moaning out her need, and Kate felt two fingers take her deep, curving up slightly to hit her g-spot.

"Oh God, Dean, it's SOOOOO good."

"That's right, baby. You feel so good. Come for me again," he demanded as he added in using his thumb against her clit. Within moments, she was exploding again, and Kate felt herself losing her balance, but Dean easily held her up as she clung to his wet body as the contractions continued to reverberate through her body.

Once they subsided, she looked deeply into his eyes, and kissed him again, hoping it could communicate what she could not say aloud. She knew this was a one-night stand, but Kate could feel herself falling for this mystery man who had rescued her on what had started out as the worst birthday of her life. She wasn't sure if he felt anything for her, but it would be ridiculous for him to do so. A few hours together was not a real relationship in any sense of the word. But she would always be thankful that they had these few moments together, regardless of what he thought or felt about her.

By way of breaking things up a bit, (despite the fact Dean was sporting a massive erection) he reached down and grabbed her shower poof, and joked, "So I guess this means you'll scrub my back, then?"

Kate laughed out loud, snatching the poof from him, and proceeded to do her best to give Dean the best damn shower he'd ever had.

* * *

She awoke to the sound of his footfalls coming from downstairs. She quickly reached for her glasses so she could read her alarm clock and saw that it was just past 6 AM. It seemed Dean was an early riser. Or perhaps that was just his habit with women.

"Don't do this," Kate berated herself. "You are NOT going to beat yourself up about this. Of course, he's leaving. He never made you any promises. He has a life somewhere to get back to." However, if she acted quickly, maybe, just maybe she could catch him before he left.

Filled with manic energy, she bounded out of bed and grabbed her old gray bathrobe, threw it on, and ran her fingers through her hair in a fruitless attempt to tame it. She didn't have to see herself to tell that her curls had acquired a life of their own by falling asleep with her hair still wet. It wasn't that important though. The important thing was saying good-bye to him.

From the direction the sound was coming, it sounded like he was in her kitchen! She resisted the urge to run down the stairs, and forced herself to take them at a normal pace. As she approached him, he turned around, and she immediately noticed a spot of chocolate at the corner of his mouth. It seemed he had found her work from yesterday. It had only been twelve hours ago, and yet that seemed a lifetime away.

"So what's the deal with the one woman bake sale you got goin' on here?" he asked.

In response she walked up to him and wiped the impudent speck of chocolate away with her thumb and laughed, "Someone's been a bad boy." As she sucked her thumb into her mouth, savoring the taste of the chocolate, and something else that she could only identify as Dean, his tongue snaked out of his mouth to check that she'd gotten all of it. For a moment, she had a vision a five year old Dean doing the same thing, only in her place would have been his mother.

Dean sheepishly apologized for waking her, and she brushed it off, telling him she was early riser anyway (which was the truth) and offered him coffee. He tried to say no, but she easily talked him into it, and they chatted like old friends while the coffee brewed. She explained about all the cookies, pies, and other baked goods, and he seemed impressed that she had her own successful little business.

He scarfed down another cookie with his coffee, and he looked so adorable doing it, she wasn't the least bit irritated. In fact, she insisted he take a half dozen for the road. She neatly packed them into one of her customized treat bags, and pressed them into his hand.

After he finished his coffee, he carefully laid the mug on the counter, and said softly, "I gotta go, Kate." She nodded, and followed him to the front door. A bit unsure of the etiquette in this situation, she kissed him lightly on the cheek, not wanting to appear too clingy. But to her happy surprise, Dean pulled her into a deep kiss; a kiss that seemed to be telling her that he didn't want to leave just yet.

He leaned his forehead against hers, capturing her eyes in his. "No regrets, Kate."

"No regrets, Dean," she replied, and in that moment she realized the truth of both of their statements.

Despite the cool morning air, she waited until he disappeared into the big car and pulled away from the curb. She had no idea where he was going, or if she would ever see him again, but Kate had no fear that she'd ever forget him.

She went back inside and had another cup of coffee, and treated herself to a chocolate chip cookie. A half an hour later she was dressed and waiting for her boss to pick her up so she could retrieve her car from Lucky's. It was the start of another ordinary Saturday.

But thanks to Dean, it would be a memorable one.


	4. Coda: Another Perspective

**Because there's another important person's perspective I want to explore . . . . **

"Fuck this shit, I'm leaving!"

"Fine!" Sam Winchester shouted as the motel room door slammed firmly behind his brother. What had begun as a surprisingly civil conversation about Sam's powers had quickly devolved into a shouting match not long after they had settled into their room. Dean refused to see how much good they could do. He was so sure that all things demon related were evil that he refused to see reason. And so he had done what Dean always did when he was on the losing end of an argument. He took off in the Impala.

"Good riddance," muttered Sam under his breath. Maybe now he'd have some peace and quiet so he could do some research for a couple hours before he crashed.

Unless, of course, Dean came back in an hour or so, checked into the room next store with his one-night stand, and kept him up all night. He'd been on the receiving end of that particular form of payback before. More than once. And make no mistake, Sam knew that a one-nighter was exactly what Dean was going in search of.

From the way Dean had stomped out the door, he was almost willing to bet money that within the hour Dean would have himself wrapped around a willing woman. It was just what he did.

Although, Sam, mentally amended, that wasn't ALWAYS true. Sometimes he'd just get stinking drunk or other times he'd come back flush with cash he'd taken off some guys from hustling pool. But more than half the time, Dean's way of dealing with their interpersonal battles was to get laid.

He'd lost count of the times Dean had come back the next morning after throwing a similar hissy fit with a shit-eating, self-satisfied grin plastered all over his face that just screamed "I've been up all night fucking". Sam wondered if Dean knew how transparent he was. One of these days he should probably tell him how obvious he was. And then he'd better stand back, because there was no way Dean would take that bit of news well.

Sam's mind wandered a bit, wondering where Dean would find his latest pick-up. They were only passing through here, so unless Dean had been here before, there was the possibility he would come up empty. Plus, they weren't exactly in a bustling metropolis. Hot chicks were probably a bit thin on the ground.

But Dean had proven him wrong before. He had almost an uncanny way of finding the hottest women in the middle of nowhere and charming his way into their panties. Chuckling to himself, Sam mused that if Dean had a supernatural power that was it.

Then it hit him, on their way to the motel they had passed a place called "Lucky's". Undoubtedly, that would be where Dean would head. He'd walk in there, all mysterious and dangerous looking, order a drink or a beer, and within five minutes he would decide who he'd walk out of there with.

It was funny, as close as Sam and Dean were; sex was the one topic that was generally off limits between them. Yeah, Dean had given Sam "The Talk" when he'd been old enough, but Dean had never been one to kiss-and-tell. He might make it obvious that he'd gotten lucky, but he didn't talk about his conquests. He probably thought Sam was too much of a prude. He knew for a fact Dean thought he should sleep around more.

But he wasn't a prude. In college he'd gotten more than his share of girls, and then he'd met Jess and that had been it. It wasn't that he didn't like sex. He loved it. But one-night stands had never really appealed to him. They were just too hollow. When he had sex, he wanted it have some meaning beyond getting himself and the girl off.

Despite that, he didn't begrudge Dean his vice. They were two very different people, and as far as Sam could tell, they helped Dean stay sane and made him a better hunter. Dean had endured the loss of nearly everyone he'd ever been close to, so it made sense he was reluctant to have any kind of real relationships with women. Not to mention the fact they never stuck around anywhere for very long. For those reasons alone, Sam couldn't judge him for his choice.

There was also something amazing about how despite having hooked up with women all over the place, Dean managed to do it without breaking their hearts. They just seemed to know that any time spent with Dean was temporary, and that they shouldn't get too attached; just enjoy the ride. It was almost enough for Sam to believe in "woman's intuition". Hell, he was almost certain that women had taken advantage of Dean, using him as a convenient means to end unhappy relationships.

Sam could almost picture the woman Dean would end up with. He almost invariably went for the petite ones; 5'2" and 110 pounds soaking wet. He liked long hair, big boobs, and a round ass you could practically serve a drink on. At least that had always been an accurate description of the women that Sam had personally observed Dean hitting on. He had no idea if Dean switched things up when he was tom-catting on his own. It wasn't like Sam ever was introduced to any of them.

The cheap plastic alarm clock on the "wood" end table between the two beds read 12:05. Dean had been gone over a half hour. He wouldn't see him again until in the morning. Research suddenly seemed dull, so Sam decided to take advantage of having the place to himself. He took a shower, staying in there until the hot water ran out. Then he slid between the slightly scratchy motel room sheets, and fell into dreamless sleep.

He'd see Dean in a few hours.

* * *

Usually when Dean returned from a night out, he would be loud and obnoxious; ordering Sam out of bed, and to pack his shit up so they could get going. But not so this morning.

Instead Dean had practically slunk into the motel room, making very little noise. It was only the click of deadbolt that awoke Sam. And if he wasn't a hunter and trained to wake at the slightest noise, he might not have even stirred. Deciding to play possum for a bit, he watched Dean from underneath the comforter, being careful not to open his eyes too much or too often.

Dean looked oddly pensive. He sat down on the unoccupied bed, and then he fell back against the pillows. In his right hand he held a baggie that had something in it, and as he lay down, Sam watched him place it on his opposite side so that Sam could no longer see it. Was he trying to hide it?

In his best sleepy voice, Sam emerged from the covers, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he said, "You're back. How'd you sleep?"

He was greeted with a stern and terse, "Fine." Clearly, Dean was in no mood to chat. Usually that meant that he was hung over, but other than the surly expression, he exhibited none of the other symptoms. His eyes were clear, and he didn't smell like a mixture of beer and whiskey. If anything, his brother looked rather _clean_ although in need of a shave. Curiouser and curiouser.

Sam got up and went through the motions of getting ready; shaving, dressing, and packing his things up. All the while Dean just LAY there silently. He didn't close his eyes either so he wasn't trying to sleep.

"All set, Dean. You want me to check out?" he asked as he hefted his backpack onto one shoulder.

"Sure, Sammy. I'll wait for you in the car," his brother answered almost like he was distracted, and not fully focused on the here and now.

"OK," Sam replied, and as he headed to the door, he just found he had to say SOMETHING, even if Dean was being Mr. Grumpy-Pants at the moment. "What's in the little bag?"

"None of your business, Sam."

"Come on, Dean. Give me a break. You don't usually bring back souvenirs," he observed.

Dean gave him an exasperated eye roll, got up, and then dangled the bag in front of his face. "They're cookies," he remarked, with just a touch of surprise in his voice. And they were professionally packaged, like they had come from a bakery. A nice one too, like the kind near Stamford where muffins cost $4.00.

"Ding, ding, ding, Sammy. Specifically, they are chocolate chip cookies, and no you can't have any. So don't bother asking," Dean said as he tucked them inside his own gear so they would be out of sight.

Over the next couple of days, Sam watched his brother eat the cookies slowly, savoring each delicious chocolate-y bite. He ate them for breakfast, and then later in the evening instead of his usual piece of pie. When the last one was gone, Sam watched his brother toss the package they had come in away with a frown; like he didn't want to let that last bit of that night go.

Whoever she was, Dean was missing her. Whoever she was, she had made an impression on the unimpressionable Dean Winchester. Sam hoped that she knew that.

**That's all folks! At least for this story. I do have an idea to bring Kate back, but I'm not sure about it yet. Please let me know if you think it's a good idea or if I should just leave things as they are. Reviews are always welcome.**


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